


Lost and Found

by yuma (yuma_writes)



Series: Wahid of the Pack [3]
Category: The Brave (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protectiveness, Team Feels, Trust Issues, Undercover, Whump, Wolf Pack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuma_writes/pseuds/yuma
Summary: He was found; whether he wanted to be or not.This is a follow-up, related to this: [here]





	Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: there is implied abuse here, nothing graphic but please read with caution.

The USB was exactly where Kusuf said it would be. They were his last words. 

Amir tucked the thin device into his suit jacket. He considered his options. 

In about ten minutes, Proctor will arrive in the compound. And then the cell leader would learn Amir wasn't Hazim Al-Jadak after all and leaving him upstairs with his tea wasn't a wise decision. 

_"Proctor is nine minutes away,"_ Dalton said tersely in his earwig. _"Amir, did you find it?"_

"Retrieved," Amir muttered. He paced the outline of the room. The cell leader was proud when he brought Amir here. It used to be a library before ISIS invaded the region and banned all Western books. Why here? It couldn't have been to show off the water damaged furniture and the faded Moroccan carpet. 

_"Amir, satellites show Proctor has company with him."_ DIA's Rivera cut into his thoughts. Her smooth voice was vastly different from Morgenthau's slightly pitched chatter. Still, Amir twitched at the intrusion.

 _"Affirmative. I'm reading six tangos with Proctor,"_ Jaz cut in. _"Top, should I engage?"_

_"Negative. Wait until Amir is clear."_

The desk was the centerpiece of the defunct library. It was made from wood not indigenous to Syria, so it was shipped here. Expensive, then. And ornate. It reminded Amir of Paris. It was a reminder of the very thing this cell hated.

_"Dalton, Mortem One and Two are thirteen minutes away. Syrian army confirms they're eleven minutes away. Be ready."_

_"Copy, Command. Preach, you and Jaz fan out at the next turnoff. I need an earlier heads up on Proctor's arrival."_

So why keep it? The bare patches on a once vibrant jade wallpaper spoke of paintings that used to hang here. The built-in shelves were ripped off; one piece of carved molding dangled, still tethered to the wall by a nail. 

_"Moving."_

_"Moving."_

Amir circled the desk. There were no scratches on the floor. The desk stayed in its original spot. He smoothed a palm across the surface. He lifted up his fingers. 

No dust.

 _"Proctor's ETA is now seven minutes,"_ McG piped in. _"Amir? How far are you from exit?"_

"Not yet," Amir muttered, more to himself. He made a face when his unintentional comment set off several voices in his ear. It sounded like flies buzzing around his corpse. He plucked the earwig out of his ear and let its wire hang around his neck. 

As Amir felt the edges of the desk, the mental clock he relied on ticked away. Three minutes to exit; an evasive five if Proctor arrives early and alert the leader. 

Two minutes. He could spare two more minutes to excavate secrets from a man who sent a thirteen-year-old shifter with a bomb vest into—

There. 

Amir's fingers brushed across an indent along the side of the middle drawer. When he tapped it, a flap dropped under the center of the desk. He flinched, but nothing else happened. He narrowed his eyes and considered the sole object taped to the hidden flap.

The key looked rusted, old-fashioned and too large to be carried in one's pocket. It appeared to be more for show: an oversized key to open an oversized door. It looked like a key in one of the old movies he and—

Amir set his mouth. He studied the key and the shape of it. The basement needed investigating. Any man who would hide a key was hiding something important within whatever the key locked in. 

The hidden compartment closed with minimal fuss. Amir wiped down the desk with the edge of his sleeve dampened with tea. He ignored the key. Taking it would only leave a clue to where Hazim Al-Jadak fled to. He checked everything was in order. He patted his jacket and felt the small lump in his hidden pocket. He checked his gun. He checked for his blade. Mental checklist all ticked off, Amir carefully pushed open the door.

The hallways looked clear. Amir heard a hush of voices to the west. So he took the door towards the east. 

The staircase went from new and painted to dank and slippery as he made his way to the subterranean levels. He grimaced at the faded paper signs stubbornly clinging to the plaster. Its messages were long gone; its strips of paper looked like claw marks on the walls. Arabic graffiti pronouncing the purity of their human race jeered at Amir as he took to the steps as quietly as he could. 

Absently, Amir wondered what DIA saw back in DC; whether the tiny blip on their screens disappeared or flicker once he descended to the lower levels. He mentally shrugged and continued on his way. 

The basement was a maze of grating and machinery. The boiler that kept the compound in heat and hot water gurgled and rumbled as he crept by. He gave it a passing glance. It might make a good hiding spot. 

As he passed the boiler and was out of earshot of its deep bellied noises, Amir heard it. 

A sniffle. 

Amir's stomach sank. The mission brief suggested the possibility, but Amir saw no sign of it during his time with the cell. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted the intel to be wrong. 

Breathing cautiously around the lump in his throat, Amir pressed his back along the damp wall that made the basement's border. His neck felt chilled. The walls weren't insulated and the Syrian plains were achingly cold at nights during this time. 

As Amir drew closer, he spotted a door befitting the key upstairs. It was a wooden door, thick with a small slot near the ground to pass trays through. A derogatory word was carved on top with the tip of a knife. Amir averted his eyes from the door's scar. There was also no window. No one cared to look inside. 

Amir crouched by the keyhole. He tipped his ear to the opening. The feeble stream of air smelled sour. 

The sniffling inside stopped. 

Amir made quick work of the door with the lockpick kit he always carried in his pocket. He checked his left and right, but there was no one coming. After all, Proctor was still si—no, five minutes away and the cell didn't appear to believe in the three meals a day regimen. It still surprised Amir that Dalton insisted on it, even if it was only a protein bar during missions. And it was unnerving how McG always watches him eat it; his brown eyes eerily canine-like in his focus. 

The door required a bit of a push to open. Amir leaned his shoulder against the slick grimy door. The door opened with a grinding noise. Amir froze, waited but when no one came running, he continued until it was enough to slip through. He checked both directions again before squeezing through and shoving the door closed. He exhaled when the door quietly thudded. He turned around.

Amir stopped in his tracks. 

The boy staring at the ground was both a surprise and not. 

Amir approached the boy cautiously. He took inventory of features (straight brown hair, green eyes, cheeks sunken instead of round) and calculated him as five? Six?

 _"I am a friend,"_ Amir tried in Arabic. The boy didn't look up. _"Dhiyb?"_

 _"No! Never!"_ A fevered haze shot up and skewered Amir, stopping him in his tracks. _"I will not let my curse win!"_

Then they either chose to keep the boy human long enough for the child to go mad. Or the child was resisting the urge to change into a wolf to hide from the pain. 

Amir's throat worked. He held up a hand. 

_"It is not a curse,"_ Amir told the boy. He pushed away a memory of chasing the moon and the feather tease of fur wagging against his ankles. _"It is a blessing."_

The boy vehemently shook his head, his eyes temporarily hidden under a curtain of dirty hair. 

Amir sighed, resigned. He didn't think it was that easy. He crouched down to the child's level. 

_"Do you know your name?"_

The boy shrugged. They took the child young then. Amir found it still hurt every time even as it became less surprising. His insides always twisted at how much hate could turn and eat itself inside out. 

Amir surveyed the cell. There were no windows. The door swung in but was too heavy to use to any advantage. He ignored the boy's flinch when he pulled out his blade. The bolt was screwed deep into the stone.

 _"Do you hear it calling?"_ Amir asked. _Three minutes_ , his mind unhelpfully supplied. He reached up a hand but pulled it back when the boy tensed.

 _"Do you hear the song? Under your skin? Calling to dance?"_ Amir tried to remember what she had told him. But a child with a whimsical tale of a wolf song and the spring of soft paws felt more like a dream than a memory. He still didn't forgive himself for his mind's forgetfulness. 

_"Do you hear it?"_ Amir stressed. He eyed the bony ankle trapped in a loop of iron. The shift would free the child. Fear and the longing for redemption kept the boy prisoner.

 _"No."_ The boy shook his head. He spat on Amir's hand when he tugged at the chain testing its strength.

 _Two minutes_ , Amir's internal clock taunted. 

Amir took a deep breath. This was a child, perhaps lied to about his worth the day his ears could understand the words.

But this was still a child. 

_"Are you hungry?"_ Amir coaxed. 

The boy gulped. After a bit of hesitation, he nodded.

_"If we leave, we could have cake. I have cake in my car. But we must leave now."_

_"Your candy?"_

Amir's brow rose. He tracked where green eyes lingered and realized the boy was staring at his front pocket. And then he remembered about the wax paper covered lump of sweets in his pocket. It was a misshapen lump that looked like charred caramels and smelled pungently of butterscotch, fruit and cinnamon. But Dalton insisted Amir needed to keep it with him. Perhaps the alpha feared Amir would somehow go into a diabetic shock? 

It was an odd request, but at the time, Amir was too busy trying to memorize the facts about his cov—

_Dalton._

Amir swore under his breath. He hurriedly unwraps the chewy candy and gave it to the child. He patted his neck and found the earwig he had yanked out.

"Command?" Amir grimaced at the crackle of static. "Top?" Another crackle.

He forgot. He forgot Dalton's team was out there. They were most likely stewing, annoyed the human dropped out of contact, possibly losing the files Kusuf gave his life trying to protect—

"They're looking for you."

Amir glanced down. The boy unconsciously canted his head towards the ceiling. Amir reviewed his internal clock. He swallowed. He rose to his feet. He paused.

The boy held the candy with both hands even though it was too small to even require one. He didn't look up, perhaps already resigned to Amir's departure. The child nibbled the candy. A sharp tooth point—the telltale sign of a future shifter—peeked out to occasionally dig into the chewy treat.

Amir looked at the door. He felt the USB in his pocket. The USB felt three times its weight now. He felt the gun clipped to the back of his trousers. And he came to a decision.

Upstairs, feet thundered up and down the hallway. There was maybe a minute before they think to search for Hazim below.

Amir crouched down. 

The child jerked the candy close to his narrow chest.

 _"It is yours,"_ Amir promised. _"If you help me."_

 _"No wolf,"_ the boy said stubbornly.

 _"No wolf,"_ Amir echoed. His throat worked. He cleared it and pulled out the USB. The child stared at it blankly.

_"Guard it? Keep it safe until a wolf appears to you."_

_"No wolf!"_ the boy cried out. His refusal bounced around the cell. His lower lip stuck out and trembled.

 _"No, no wolf. Not for you. A different wolf. It will come for this. A secret."_ Amir paused. _"And it will have more candy."_

_"Candy?"_

Amir swallowed. He nodded.

Appeased, the child allowed Amir closer. Keen emerald eyes followed Amir's hand as it tucked the USB into the boy's only intact shirt pocket.

 _"You're a good boy,"_ Amir rasped. _"Wait for the wolf. Give him the secret."_

 _"No wolf,"_ the child repeated, stubbornly.

Amir wasn't sure why; there was no time, but he carefully grasped the trembling boy by the thin shoulders and kissed the overly warm brow.

 _"No wolf,"_ Amir said. The child gazed up at him.

 _"You wait with me?"_ The boy held up the half-eaten candy. 

Amir shook his head. He smiled, but it stretched across his face strange and unfamiliar. He reached out to brush fingers across the boy's cheek; he refrained because the boy stared at his hand like it was a snake. He rose back to his feet instead; ever mindful his own mental clock ran past the safety time he allowed himself.

One step towards the door though, Amir's knees locked. He suspected he looked odd to the boy: a man in a nice blue suit, one foot towards the door, his shoulders still turned towards the child. He briefly closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before opening them again. He dug his heels in and pulled the door open.

 _"Salaam Alaykum,"_ Amir whispered before squeezing past the door's opening.

The child stared wide-eyed after Amir, the candy close to his chest, the farewell left forgotten in his lips.

 

It was like a cartoon.

Amir watched as the men raced past his hiding place to search. They had barreled into the first room. So he hid in the third. They stumbled into the fifth room. So he slipped into the first. He was struck with the memory of sitting on the living room rug with a bowl of cereal, her tail tickling the bottom of his feet as they watched a gray cat gave a futile chase after a clever brown mouse.

The memory, like the others, struck Amir's chest as sharp as a physical blow. And like with the others, he shoved it away to be savored later, when the fight is over and evil men become extinct.

When it sounded like the men were searching at the other end of the corridor, Amir slipped out of the room and squeezed into the room he wanted.

It was a barren space. The windows were barred; dust filled the area. There was a chair nailed to the far corner of the room. There were blood splatters on the scratched floorboards.

Amir glanced behind him, but the shouting and the chaos sounded far away. In fact, it sounded like they were fighting. Maybe among themselves? That would be useful. 

The floorboard resisted Amir's blade. After a few tugs, the board finally lifted up with a _creak_. 

Amir scanned the pocket of space the plank revealed. He smelled mold; curls of wood shavings and dried insect husks filled every crevice. It appeared he found some sort of nest.

The earwig flared noisily to life as soon as Amir tapped it on.

_"…the hell are you?"_

Amir grimaced. The sudden burst of noise from too many voices was as painful as tinnitus, just as insistent.

_"Amir, we have you still within the compound. Proctor has landed! Dalton is enrou—"_

"Track this," Amir said bluntly. He couldn't tell who it was and he didn't have the luxury to decipher it. "Track this. The USB is directly below. Tell Dalton he needs to shift first before he can retrieve it."

_"Shift? Below? Amir, stay your position. They're coming for yo—"_

"Moving," Amir said crisply. He pulled the tangle of wire, his radio and the earwig off his neck. He stuffed everything into the nest with a mental apology for whatever he'd unceremoniously evicted. He replaced the floorboard. Hopefully, the signal will remain strong. 

The noise still sounded far away. Amir pulled out his gun. He held it with both hands, downward because he couldn't afford to waste bullets with the random shooting. The original plan was to be a thief in the night and slip out the door. 

Oh well.

Amir peered around the threshold. Shadows writhed on the far end of the corridor.

 _Okay,_ Amir thought grimly. It was time to let them know where he was.

 

The gully came as a shock.

Amir skidded to a halt just as his toes went past the edge. Breathing heavily, he almost didn't hear the men relentlessly on his trail. He supposed it made sense. After all, they think he has the USB. 

This direction was useless, though. Amir pivoted around to another direction. He saw a beam of light swinging wildly at him. A voice shouted. 

Amir's feet slipped, trying to find traction as he ran away from the compound. Hopefully, Dalton and the others have breached the base and found what they were looking for. Hopefully, Dalton will have candy for the boy.

The sensation of crashing through brittle reeds and sand was a disturbing memory. Muscles flexed, recalling another time, many more times when Amir needed to run. His leather tooled shoes weren't made for sand. They were made to make Hazim Al-Jadak look like an ideal, well-to-do financier. Amir ignored the ache in the soles of his feet and the burn in his knees. He ran. He followed the gully in hopes it would ease away from its thirty-foot depth into a more manageable one. If not, he'll have to jump anyway, something he didn't look forward to repeating. 

The moon was high above Amir, a hunter's moon and Amir wearily smirked at the irony. He had miscalculated the jump out the window. His ribs took the brunt of the impact. It left him breathless. It stunned him long enough for five men to spot him. Amir took advantage of a distant explosion and threw himself down the slopes and into the grounds.

Somewhere, somehow, Amir lost his gun.

Unfortunately, his pursuers did not.

A bullet snapped near Amir's right foot. He twisted and veered sharply to the left. The next bullet punched a small hole where he stood before. He dove behind a dune. Sand rained down on him as bullets peppered his shelter.

Amir coughed out the sand he accidentally inhaled. He glanced over to the gully he used as a guide. He winced. Not one of his better plans, but—

With a huff, Amir bolted out from his cover. Sure enough, bullets razed the ground he stood. Amir ran a fraction slower and inched closer to the edge…

Fire raked across Amir's left side. Amir jerked. He leaned closer to the edge and dropped.

Despite the pain, Amir made sure to let out a shout as he fell into the gully. His blade whipped out, he hoped he was right on how strong the roots were and he slammed his blade into the side. His other hand flailed until he could grab a fist of roots dangling out of the side of the gully like witch's hair.

Lights lashed out, cutting the night as they searched the bottom. The silt rich river raged brown and dark below. 

Amir hugged the side of the gully. He panted. He waited as the angry voices above grew louder and angrier. One argued Amir was dead. The other wanted to climb down. The others cursed the traitor and hope his body gets carried out to sea.

Their radios interrupted the debate. Something about a raid or an attack. Something. Amir couldn't make it out. His ears pounded in unison with the throbbing along his side. He felt blood trickling down his hip and into his trousers. He must have miscalculated. He should have leaned more to the left or maybe jump out sooner. 

Amir dropped his face into the sandy cliff face. The grains scratched his whiskered jaw. He smelled salt. He smelled blood, his own. No wonder wolves find it distracting. His nostrils flared at the smell and he wasn't a wolf. 

In the distance, Amir heard loud _thumps_ and roars. Explosions. A lot of them. He hoped Dalton's team was clear of them first. The Syrian army was determined to prove to the world they didn't take ISIS and shifter abuse lightly, but they tended to overcompensate. They tended to forget there are possible undercover operatives in the cells. And bullets don't ask for ID before cutting through you. 

Amir listened as the voices above him faded. When they were gone, he still waited. When his heart stopped hammering hard against his ribs, Amir still waited.

When Amir's hand started to cramp, its tight-fisted grip around the roots convulsing, Amir at last stirred. He raised his head and stared blearily at his blade stuck on the gully side. He exhaled slowly. He waited for one more beat.

Nothing. 

Slowly, Amir pulled the blade out. It came out reluctantly, like a blade slipping out of a body. He ignored the comparison as he reached up and stabbed the gully inches above him.

By the time Amir reached the top, his back was drenched. From sweat, from blood, he wasn't sure. His shoulders burned every time he moved his arms. His legs shook as he dug his shoes into the gully for leverage. 

Amir tossed the blade over. He heard it land on the sand, well past the edge. He gritted his teeth and reached up.

A hand curled tight around his.

"I got you," a rumble floated to Amir. Another hand, just as dark, reached down and grasped his other. 

Amir blinked up at Preach. 

Preach gazed down and favored Amir with an eyebrow.

"Up?"

Amir wordlessly nodded. He curled his toes within his shoes and kicked into the gully to create another foothold.

"No need," Preach said, his only warning.

Amir yelped as he flew out of the gully, over the edge and set down carefully a foot away from the drop. He stared blankly down at himself then over his shoulder at the edge. Oh. That's right. He'd once seen McG rip off a car door with his bare hands to pull Dalton and a little girl out before the engine blew. 

Preach chuckled as he patted Amir on the shoulder. He paused.

Amir saw where Preach's eyes were. He tugged his shirt, straightening it out over his torso. He tried to close his jacket as well, but he seemed to be missing a button. 

"How did you find me?" Amir asked hastily.

Preach's mouth snapped closed. He pursed his mouth as he considered Amir. 

"I heard you," Preach said. He lifted his broad shoulders. 

Amir furrowed his brow. " _Heard_ me? In my comms?" He patted himself, but he left everything under the floorboard.

Preach nudged Amir's hands away. He settled a palm over the small of Amir's back but dropped it quickly when Amir grimaced.

"I have the better sense of hearing among us," Preach explained. He pulled up his 416 to peer through its scope at their surroundings. "It would have been easier if you kept the candy though."

"The candy?" Amir frowned. He brushed a palm over his pocket. His eyes widened.

"The boy! He—"

"Top found him," Preach reassured Amir. He swatted Amir's hands away as he parted the jacket to examine Amir's side. He pressed thumbs along the graze, stopping when Amir fidgeted away. "Just where you told Noah and Hannah."

Under the thin targeting light from Preach's scope, Amir examined the rent across his white—well, it was white—shirt. He tugged his narrow tie off and used it to dab the edges of the wound.

"It's not deep. Not too long," Amir muttered. "But it may need some stitches." The bullet carved a groove under his ribs. He pressed his tie to the worse of it. He winced.

"McG mentioned you were trying to take his job," Preach remarked. He chuckled quietly to soften the barb. "Now I know why he insisted we all carry a first aid kit."

Amir picked at the hem of his jacket. He didn't relish the walk back. He wanted to sit down. He wanted Preach to leave him alone to tend to his wounds. He wanted to see them put the boy in Mortem One. He wanted…he wanted to sit down.

"Top has the USB?" Amir tried to turn Preach's attention elsewhere. Unfortunately, Preach seemed comfortable with multitasking. Amir gave up and scowled at the small aluminum box in Preach's hands. 

"The boy wouldn't give it to anyone else. Told Top you said to only give it to the wolf."

Amir ignored the eyebrow Preach arched towards him. He stayed still as Preach cleaned the wound with alcohol wipes. He made a face as he watched one bloody square after another drop to the sand. 

"He wasn't too happy though," Preach continued. He relented after Amir fidgeted away for the third time. He silently handed over gauze and watched Amir clean and bind the graze himself.

"He wasn't expecting to find the USB with the boy." Preach took Amir by the elbow and steered him towards the compound. "Director Campbell has a few words for you, as well." 

"I couldn't risk taking the USB with me—"

Preach shook his head. His grip on Amir's elbow flexed. Amir fought down the urge to pull free.

"I mean he expected to find you on the other side of the candy."

Amir's brow knitted together. "You mean my comms, right?" he corrected Preach. "I placed them under the floor and told them to look directly—"

Preach made a dismissive sound.

Amir squinted towards the distance ahead. He mulled over Preach' words.

"You use the candy to smell me out," Amir realized. At Preach's grunt, Amir nodded. "Because you don't have down my scent yet."

Jaz had complained it shouldn't take this long. Amir resisted asking McG how long it took for them to memorize Vallins's.

"We will." Preach made it sound like a promise. "If you'll let us."

Amir twitched and Preach released his elbow. Amir staggered out of reach. He felt blood trickling down despite his wrapping. The back of his trousers stuck to his legs as he walked.

"I stopped using the camphor," Amir reminded Preach over his shoulder. He fixed his gaze forward, towards the diffused glow in the distance, where Dalton's pack was, where there was work to be done. He told his feet: _left, right, left, right_. 

"The thing about being lost," Preach murmured, "You can still be found. Unless you want to stay lost."

The corners of Amir's eyes burned. His throat clenched. _Left, right, left, right._ "I stopped using the camphor," he repeated.

Preach's hand dropped onto Amir's shoulder, stilling his reflex to jerk away.

"It's a start," Preach said cryptically. He moved the hand to cup Amir's elbow again. 

The sand made a shushing sound as they walked. Yellowed grass bowed as they cut through. Amir thought he saw beady eyes glowing in the dark before Preach rumbled warningly under his breath and paws scamper away.

Amir saw lights twinkling red and white in the distance. The Blackhawks were arriving to meet Mortem Actual; they were military constellations winking high in the sky. He wondered if the boy was being placed in one of them right now. He wondered if there was a family to take the boy. He wondered if the boy would ever allow himself to hear the wolf's song.

His head hurt thinking about it. Amir cleared his throat to drown out the hollowness of his thoughts.

The plains were quiet, the usual night creatures silenced by their intrusion. Sand muffled everything to something duller and subdued. 

But silence carried its own echoes and Amir's ears started to ache trying to ignore them.

Amir cleared his throat. He didn't look at Preach, though. 

"So if it wasn't the candy?" Amir ventured.

Preach shrugged again, a simple lift of his large shoulders. He looked serene, a dark statue of contemplation as he gazed out into the night.

"I heard you calling."

Amir blinked. "I was calling?" He made a face. "You mean howling. I'm pretty sure I didn't howl. I'm not pack."

Preach grunted. "Well, you got it half right."

Amir huffed. "McG tried. Remember? He wanted me to try howling." He still wasn't sure if McG was joking or not. He was almost certain that he was.

Preach chuckled. "We have bets on how long it would take before you try."

"You'll lose money," Amir warned Preach. "Don't bet on me."

Preach's hand briefly curled tighter around Amir's elbow. "I wouldn't know about that," Preach murmured.

Brow furrowed, Amir concentrated on matching Preach step for step. _Left, right, left, right._ He stared out towards the compound and wondered how much further he needed to go.

He really wanted to sit down.

 

"Uh oh."

Amir lifted his heavy head and followed Preach's gaze. He grimaced when he saw a light-colored blur bounding straight for them with all the determination of a missile.

"Top," Preach warned as the wolf reached them with a few leaps and a scrabble of paws in the sand. 

"I'm fine," Amir managed to say before the wolf collided with his uninjured side. Amir bumped into Preach before righting himself.

The wolf shoved its blunt snout over Amir's pockets. It loudly snuffled as it poked and prodded Amir's torso. Finished, the wolf pulled back. It bared its teeth at Amir. 

"It worked though," Preach told the wolf. He kept a hand on Amir's elbow. "We found the boy and the USB." To Amir, he smiled. "Jaz said she could smell the candy a hundred yards away the minute the boy opened his mouth."

Amir mutely nodded. He stared warily at Dalton.

The wolf heavily dropped on its rear and fixed its gaze at Amir. Its ears winched back. It snapped its teeth towards Amir. 

Amir grimaced. "I…I forgot," he confessed. "That you were out there. I shouldn't have stayed off comms that long." He winced to Preach. "Sorry."

Preach hummed. He glanced over to Dalton. He shook his head.

Dalton growled under its breath.

"I know," Preach murmured. "Give it time."

Amir's brow knitted. "Give it what time?" He shook his head. "Never mind." He suspected it was an inside joke he wasn't privy to. He settled a hand on his side and stepped forward.

That was the last thing he remembered.

 

 

"…one of those ear clip GPS things you see on those nature shows. Maybe we wouldn't keep losing him like a lost calf—"

"He's awake."

 _Who was_ , Amir fuzzily thought. He felt heavy-limbed, cold where he laid on metal plating, hot where a bandage was stuck too tight on his skin.

A hand grabbed him by the wrist.

Amir reared up swinging out with his other hand. There was a _thump_ , a shout, odd sharp _whooshing_ noises and lots of yelling.

Then, a thunderous roar.

Amir stilled.

"Geez," McG complained as he sat up. He dropped a hand on Amir's knee, patted it down from its readied position to kick out. His other hand cupped his right ear.

"You did that on purpose. Again." McG crouched down and peered up at Amir's eyes. "My ears didn't stop ringing for about a week last time."

"Are you done?" Jaz's bland voice floated to Amir from somewhere up front. "Or you think you didn't freak out the pilots enough? You could do that again. I think this time, they _will_ crash, Top."

A snort tickled Amir's ear. He canted his head to his right.

Dalton lay on its belly on the metal deck, squinting up at Amir.

Amir pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He searched for the connecting moment he went from desert to the Blackhawk. When he couldn't find it, only blankness, his stomach twisted. He swallowed convulsively.

"You're in Mortem One." McG gingerly settled a hand on Amir's bowed back. "All right, man? Preach is in Mortem Two showing the kid magic tricks. You're here with Jaz and me. And you remember the fuzzy guy? Huh?"

"Okay," Amir muttered. It was strange: he was finally sitting down, but the urge hasn't gone away.

McG patted Amir and went back to check the IV, which apparently was what he was doing before Amir rudely woke up. 

Next to Amir, the wolf wiggled closer. It dropped its head on Amir's thigh and squeezed a glare up at Amir. It woofed; it was barely audible under the Blackhawk's loud pattern of dual rotors.

"Not too bad," McG announced as he scribbled vitals into a notebook. "Your BP's leveling off. Graze wasn't too deep, but if it's hurting you, I can give you morph—"

"No drugs," Amir said, sharper than he intended, sharp enough he felt three pairs of eyes on him. His skin crawled. He glanced away.

"No drugs," Amir repeated. 

McG dropped a hand on Amir's knee again and pulled away.

"All right," McG said easily, "I wasn't looking forward to seeing you all dopey anyway."

Jaz scoffed.

Dalton barked.

"Oh, like you're one to talk," McG shot back. He grinned at Amir. "Remind me to tell you about the time Top needed a tooth pulled."

The wolf growled.

Amir arched an eyebrow. 

"Wolves don't take to drugs well." Jaz's voice reached him reluctantly. She sat with her back to the cockpit, cross-legged in the seat, her 416 in her lap. She sniffed loudly. "There are other things we use for pain." She glanced across. Mortem Two flew alongside like a reflection on the clouds. "Pretty strong stuff, though. Only adult wolves can take it."

"Except him," McG snickered. He pointed to Dalton despite the wolf's warning growl. "Man, the guy was chasing his tail all day. Elijah brought him this squeaky to—"

Amir studied the plate flooring. He sensed Jaz stiffening, abruptly turning to stare at Mortem Two instead through the porthole. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught McG grimacing at Dalton.

Thinking quickly, Amir offered a quiet, "What about the boy?"

" _Now_ you care?" Jaz said tightly. "You left the boy behind."

Dalton grumbled under its breath. His head was surprisingly heavy on Amir's leg. A paw slipped under Amir's leg probably to keep Amir from kicking out again.

"I had no choice," Amir said evenly. 

Jaz scoffed and turned back to stare out the porthole.

"He's doing all right," McG said. "Noah thinks he might be able to track the kid's family down—"

"Don't give him back to them. They don't deserve him," Amir said sharply. Out of the corner of his eye, the wolf lifted up its head.

Dalton barked quietly.

Amir's mouth snapped shut. He could feel eyes on him. Too many eyes. He searched for something to say.

"I promised the boy candy." It was the only thing Amir could think of, but at least the scrutiny eased off. He cautiously rolled his shoulders back. 

"I think we can do better than that," Jaz said. The edge in her voice was gone. 

"And you," McG grumbled as he sat back, "we need to give you a bushel of that stuff. Man, we heard you yell and…" He shook his head.

Amir frowned. "I needed to let them think they got me so—what do you mean you heard me yell? Preach said the same thing."

McG wagged a finger at Amir. "You told me if you were ever shot, there would be a lot of yelling, nothing about you playing possum."

Dalton grumbled. The vibrations seemed to go through Amir's leg.

McG opened his hands towards the wolf. "I know, right? Preach has the better ears so he figured out where you might be, but your scent is still kind of wonky—" He waved dismissively at Amir. "You know what I mean, man. You're still hard to track. You gotta let us find you."

Dalton woofed. It dropped its head heavily on Amir's thigh again. Amir's chest clenched. He felt pinned. Amir wondered if the alpha would bite him if he tried to push its head away.

Blue eyes that swirled green blinked up towards Amir. Triangular ears twitched. The wolf shook its head and sat up. It stayed close though, its whiskers brushing against Amir's throat as if checking for a pulse.

Amir didn't feel the urge to brush them away. He sat there, his side dully throbbing, his head feeling too heavy on his shoulders. Everyone around him fell silent, content to listen to the helo's blades whipping through the air as it flew towards hom—No, not quite, but there was a familiarity that was starting to feel welcoming.

Dalton's furry body was warm against Amir as the wolf remained close. It stayed alert, ears perked up, its golden streaked tail lashed around its large paws, an azure gaze darting from left to right. It was pointless; no one would attack the Blackhawk unless it was a missile and if it was, a vigilant wolf was powerless against it.

Still…

Amir sat back, tentatively leaning more of his weight against the wolf.

Dalton yawned, jaws opening wide and intimidating. It didn't move away.

The urge to sit down, the lingering heaviness in Amir's chest, eased. He blinked sleepily at Jaz and McG.

McG cocked his head when he noticed Amir watching.

"Do you have any more of the candy?" Amir could probably sew it into the lining of his jacket.

A broad grin spread across McG's face for some reason.

"Yea," McG drawled. "I think I got another."

 

The next day, Amir found five dozen candies stuffed into his pillow. His bed smelled like someone rolled toffee apples on the sheets and it smelled like that for days.

_Damn it, McG._

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow-up, related to this: [ [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13687590) ]
> 
> Soooo, Levi wanted to see a mission. _(perks up)_ Then mmorgan flings me inspiration. _(hmmm)_
> 
> Then she sends me an angsty Amir picture.
> 
>  
> 
> _Six thousand words later…_
> 
>  
> 
> Damn it.
> 
>   
> Feedback is like cookies. I like cookies!  
> 
> 
> Fans for season 2, don't forget the hashtags!  
> #RenewTheBrave  
> #TheBrave


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